FRENCH ACTORS AND ACTRESSES. BY CHARLES HERVEY, ESQ. Actors killed and wounded in the Revolution of June-The Gymnase an Ambulance-State of the Drama in Belgium and Holland, Mademoiselle RachelFrench Artistes in London-Vernet's Umbrella-Luxembourg, Mademoiselle Grigny-M. Dussert's Tableaux Vivans-Mademoiselle Constance and Mademoiselle Armande-Subsidy granted to the Theatres. DURING the eventful days of June only one actor, a young man of the name of Georges, attached to the Théâtre Beaumarchais, lost his life, though several were more or less wounded. Among these I may mention André Hoffmann, slightly hurt by a fall from a barricade, and Sévin of the Délassements Comiques,* who, in addition to a bad wound in the shoulder, had one of his cheeks literally shot away. M. Dejean, manager of the Cirque Olympique, received no less than three balls in the leg; and Got, a young actor of the Théâtre de la République had, while doing his duty as a national guard, a very narrow escape, a bullet passing through his shako, and grazing the top of his head. More than one musket-ball has left its mark in Roger's pretty apartment in the Rue Rochechouart (rather an exposed situation, directly leading to the barrier); its owner, luckily for him, had left Paris for London a few days before "les événements." M. Hippolyte Cogniard, one of the managers of the Porte St. Martin, was taken prisoner by the insurgents, and barely escaped being thrown into the canal; and Nestor, of the same theatre, not only fought gallantly in the Faubourg St. Antoine, but also brought away with him three muskets of which he had "spoiled the Egyptians." For some days after the struggle, the Gymnase was converted into an ambulance, and many of the actresses volunteered their services as attendants on the wounded. Happy wounded! to receive their tisane and bouillon at the hands of a Rose Chéri, a Marthe, or a Meley! to see their fairy forms flitting to and fro, in place of the grave and solemn step of the professed Sisters of Charity! Ah, ladies! let your dramatic triumphs have been what they may, rest assured that you have now other and more enduring claims than these on the admiring recollection of your fellow-citizens the actress may one day be forgotten, but the soft, low voice, breathing hope and consolation, the gentle look of pity and condolence will still survive in the memories of those whose sufferings they have alleviated, and to whose wants they have so sweetly ministered! The distaste for the drama, which, since the revolution of February, has become more and more evident in Paris, and indeed throughout France generally, is fast spreading in the adjacent countries. Brussels, where, in bygone days the advent of a Parisian artiste was welcomed as an event certain alike to interest the public and to fill the managerial pockets, is now one of the most anti-theatrical towns possible; Rachel herself being scarcely able to draw a decent house, and Déjazet playing to empty benches. Nor has Holland escaped the contagion; in Amsterdam, Rachel did little or nothing, and in Rotterdam still less. It is true that neither there nor in Brussels was she allowed to sing the "Marseillaise," although I believe that in the latter city she might, if she had chosen Since dead. have sung the national Belgian melody (I forget its name) till she was black in the face, without the slightest hindrance on the part of the authorities. Now, the summer being the regular season for congés, there is scarcely a leading actor or actress in Paris who has not, between April and October, some two or three months at his or her own disposal. Hitherto, this interval has been invariably looked forward to as a never-failing source of profit, and most important have been the negotiations carried on through the medium of dramatic agents and correspondents with various provincial managers, respecting the allotment of certain days and sometimes weeks of the said interval to their respective localities. But this year the provincial theatres are, with few exceptions, closed, and the "stars" have consequently nothing to do but to stay at home en bourgeois or to travel. Now as far as regards the ladies (bless their sweet faces!) they are always welcome wherever they go, and the more the merrier. Cast a glance at our own metropolis, if you doubt me: Hyde Park swarms with them, the baignoires at the operas, and the avant-scènes at the French play, reckon them among their most faithful habituées; for them Covent Garden supplies its richest bouquets, its most luxurious fruits; to their presence Ascot owes half its attraction, and Greenwich fish-dinners half their zest. To them the word impossible is unknown; like the proprietor of the Cheval du Diable, they have but to utter the cabalistic "Je le veux!" and all they demand is at their feet. Contradict me if you can, Madame ; disprove my assertion if you are able, Made moiselle ! But the men, oh! that's quite another thing. They can't even cross the sea without paying for it (whereas if their pretty comrades do pay tribute to Neptune, it is only because they cannot do it by deputy): they can't smuggle over so much as a bottle of eau-de-cologne free of dutythey find no lodgings in Regent Street or the Quadrant at their disposal, but are forced to take up their quarters in some out of the way street near what I myself once heard a Frenchman call La Place d'Or, meaning Golden Square. They never think of visiting the Opera or French Play unless some good-natured friend gets them an order, and as to their other amusements, if they go once to Richmond or Gravesend by water, and once to Vauxhall or the Surrey Zoological, that is about the sum tottle. Moreover, while ces dames are fitées and lionised, first from morning to night, and then from night to morning again, the unfortunate hetravellers, if they happen, as is generally the case, to know nobody, are left to their own resources, which are very little resource to them indeed. If they attempt to flâner in a crowded thoroughfare, they run imminent risk of being knocked into the street: if, as is most probable, they speak but little English, they are morally certain to lose their way and get involved in an inextricable labyrinth of unknown turnings and windings, if they once rashly forsake that Paradise of foreigners in fine weather-Regent Street. They miss their cafés, their Boulevards, and even their barricades, the latter picturesque additions to street scenery having lately become as familiar to a Parisian eye as are the ingenious monuments, formerly honoured with the name of the ex-préfet de la Seine, M. de Rambuteau. The admission fee to St. Paul's and to the Royal Academy disgusts them with sight-seeing: nor do they consider beefsteaks au naturel and "af an af" very palatable substitutes for their much regretted potage and eau rougie. In short, unless he be engaged at the St. James's, a French actor is rarely induced to prolong his stay in the "great metropolis," and still more rarely to pay it a second visit-Arnal, however, is an exception to the general rule; during the last year he was three times in London, and has just returned to Paris from another trip thither. Nor do Belgium, Germany, or Switzerland often tempt the real Parisian artiste dramatique from his accustomed haunts; he is quite contented in summer to hire two rooms in a dusty street at Passy, or a little den at Neuilly, and to call it his campagne. There he walks about in a blouse and enormous straw hat, eats his dinner in an apology for a garden, hardly twelve feet square, goes three times a week to Paris and back in the St. Cloud omnibus, which he invariably designates as "la voiture," as if there were but one in the world, and talks seriously about retiring from the stage and purchasing either a maisonnette at Courbevoie like Odry, or a villa like Mademoiselle Rachel's "Ma Santé" at Marly. One of those who realised a similar wish was poor Vernet; he bought a very nice country house somewhere near Charenton for a large sum of money, grew sick of it in a year or two, and sold it for a mere song. By the way, since the death of this admirable artiste, his theatrical wardrobe, &c., has been disposed of by auction. Among the lots was the identical umbrella made for and carried by him some hundreds of times in "Ma Femme et mon Parapluie." This relic, the possession of which would in better days have been coveted by many a staunch play-goer, was knocked down to an old clothesman for thirty sous! Oh, Republic, these are thy fruits! The first theatre to open its doors since the revolution of June, has been the Luxembourg, nor has the enterprising manager yet had reason to repent his chivalrous essay, for chivalrous it is, par le temps qui court. This little bandbox boasts among other attractions a very lively and agreeable actress, with fine eyes and a roguish smile. I have been intending to say as much for the last six months, but my memory has become strangely treacherous since the revolution. Will Mademoiselle Caroline Grigny forgive me? Dussert, of the Variétés, was summoned a few days ago before the police correctionnelle, for having organised an exhibition of tableaux vivants in the Passage Saulnier, the novel feature in which was the total suppression of the maillot. The artistes, consisting chiefly of models selected from the different atéliers, were twenty in number, three of them being negroes. I was sorry to see in the list of prévenues the name of Fanny Klein, a pretty little actress, formerly of the Folies Dramatiques and now of the Variétés. "Que diable allait-elle faire dans cette galère ?" Dussert, as proprietor of the concern, contended in his own defence that the exhibition in question was not a theatrical one, and affirmed that his sole object in getting it up was to reproduce the most celebrated groups of antiquity, in the presence of an audience composed of painters and sculptors. However, it being a matter of considerable doubt whether any one of the sixty persons, assembled to witness these poses plastiques, had ever handled a paint-brush or a chisel, "Ueber diese Antwort des Directoren Jobses, Judgment deferred. Mademoiselle Constance and Mademoiselle Armande are unquestionably two of the prettiest and most courues of Parisian ingénuités. They are sisters, and rejoice in the somewhat uneuphonious name of Resuche, a name which during the last two or three years has acquired a not very enviable notoriety through the medium of the Droit and the Gazette des Tribunaux. Voici comment. No one who is even partially initiated in les petits mystères of a theatrical life in Paris, ever fails mentally to associate the term ingénue à la mode with every imaginable kind of luxury, such as exquisitely furnished apartments, soft-cushioned Broughams, diminutive tigers, expensive toilettes, dinners at the Trois Frères, suppers at the Maison Dorée, jewels, bouquets, avant-scènes, Sèvres china, and at least one King Charles. Now, both Mademoiselle Constance and Mademoiselle Armande fully appreciate the advantages derivable from the possession of the foregoing creature comforts of life; no one dresses better or in more perfect taste than they do; no turn-out in the Bois or the Champs Elysées is neater than theirs; nor are their respective salons less sumptuously fitted up than those of their most recherchées rivals. Unfortunately, however, for Mademoiselle Armande (Mademoiselle Constance having as yet contrived to weather all similar storms), the same fournisseurs, who so readily supply these fair ladies with every kind of objet d'art, from the clock on their chimney-piece to the tapestry of their portières, are apt to entertain the antediluvian idea that the said objets are sooner or later to be paid for, and what is worse, nothing will drive that idea out of their heads. A natural consequence of this obstinacy is the occasional summons before some court of justice or other of an interesting debtor, who, having succeeded in persuading herself that she is the victim of extortion and imposition, endeavours, through her counsel, to impress the president with the same opinion, and, strange say, fails most signally. As for Mademoiselle Armande, she is almost as regular in her irregularity with respect to payment, and in her attendance (by deputy, of course) before the Tribunal de Commerce, as is Mademoiselle Liévenne, and will be so, I suppose, till the end of the chapter. to But all this is sadly irrelevant, and à propos to nothing. Here is positively nearly a whole page wasted, and that too when space is so precious in the New Monthly! Why could I not say at once and in one breath, "Mademoiselle Armande is engaged at the Gymnase, and much good may it do the Gymnase ?" Simply because I love a little gossip now and then, and feel on such excellent terms with my readers, that I always long to tell them tout ce qui me trotte dans la tête. Besides, "On aime à donner quelque chose says Fernand de Mauléon, in "Satan," and Fernand de Mauléon is right. The sum of 680,000 francs has at length been granted to the different Parisian theatres, to be divided among them as follows: Certain portions of these sums will be distributed every fortnight to the respective theatres up to the first of October, and it is, moreover, expressly stipulated that of these portions two-thirds are to be paid to the actors and other employés of the different establishments, and the remain. ing third to the managers. It is expected that the performances at every theatre will be arranged so as to terminate before eleven. The Opéra National alone is excluded from any participation in the above advantages, but as that rickety concern has been at the last gasp for several months, it is rather an act of mercy than otherwise to put it out of its misery. Next to the Luxembourg, the first theatres to re-open were the Gymnase and the Montansier, both of which recommenced their representations on Saturday, the 15th instant. On the ensuing Monday some half a dozen more followed their example, and on Friday, the 21st instant, every theatre in Paris and the banlieue was open. May they long remain so! July 22, 1848. P.S.-Since the above was written, judgment has been given in Dussert's case as follows. Those among the poseurs and poseuses who are under sixteen years of age are acquitted. The remainder of the troupe are fined sixteen francs each. Dussert himself, and his brother-manager, Hutant, are fined a hundred francs each, and costs. |